Desperate Times
by High Priestess Lunatic
Summary: How far would Jim go to protect Blair?
1. Default Chapter Title

****

Although I offered to buy the whole franchise for a buck fifty, Pet Fly, Paramount, the Sci-Fi networks and various other individuals refused to sell me the Sentinel. I made no money off this story, which is logical since it is not worth any money. I humbly ask not to be sued since I lack the funds to put a stick of gum on lay-away.

High Priestess Lunatic

Desperate Times

Part One:

He could throw Blair out of the loft, send him away but that would not help. After three years James KNEW Blair Sandburg. Knew how he thought. How he reacted. He knew his friend was more stubborn than a contrary mule. When he got an idea into his head, especially when he though that James needed him, he held on to it like a pit bull with lockjaw. Nothing else mattered.

Throwing him out would not be enough. If he wanted Blair to be safe - even from him safe sepcially from him and his wolf killing dreams - he would have to put Blair somewhere. Someplace safe that even Blair Sandburg could not escape from, but Blair would never go voluntarily. He never thought of his own saftey as a priority.

The fact he still lived with James after the David Lash incident was proof enough of that fact.

James stopped stuffing Blair's clothes in to the cardboard box and sat down on the edge of the futon to think. Blair could get out of a safe house faster than Houdini from handcuffs. There was no police officer - local, state or federal who could contain Blair. Hospitals could only keep him if he were heavily sedateted. In fact the only people who had ever successfully held Blair were the psychopaths who kidnapped him.

James snapped his fingers.

Of course!

~+~

Blair arrived at the loft to find the front door ajar. The last time that had happened a pile of genuine horse manure as tall as himself had been awaiting him. Considering the crimninally insane sociopaths that he and James rutinely delt with, Blair was not about ta take any chances. Especially when James and his gun were not with him. 

Blair started walking backwards as softly as he could toward the elevator just incase someone really was waiting for him in the loft. As he went fished his micor cellular phone out of the pocket of his khaki cargo pants, and pressed the speed dial sequense. When he got to the depression in the wall where the elevator doors were he hid himself. 

Blair stood with his back pressed against the cool metal doors of the lift holding the tiny telephone to his ear, glancing around the corner cautiously. The telephone rang seven times before it rolled over to Rhonda automatically. 

"Hello this is the Cascade Police Department, Major Crimes Division how may I direct your call?" Rhonda asked politely.

"Rhonda it's me, Blair," Sandburg hissed in a hoarse whisper. "Jim isn't picking up and I think we've got an emergancy at here. I just got home and found the door was aready open, but the lights are off. I didn't hear anybody in there, but with our track record I'd rather err on the side of caution you know?"

"He proably turned it off because he's in there with Simon and two agents from the FBI. Where are you? Are you safe Blair?"

"Yeah, for the moment. I'm keeping watch on the front door. Don't worry, I've got the elevator behind me and the stairs in front of me in case I need a quick escape."

"Alright, let me connect you to Simons office."

Rhonda put Blair on hold. She stood up from her desk and knocked on Simon's door before entering at his rough bark. 

"Rhonda what -"

"Blair's holding on line one. Someone broke into the loft Jim, Blair's keeping watch on the front door from the elevator."

James started to rise, but Simon waved him back in his chair. "Take the call here on the speaker phone."

Rhonda went back out, closing the door behind herself, to connected the call.

"Who is Blair?" Special Agent Hill, who was sitting across the table clutterd with survalence photgraphs and open folders from James asked. He looked from Simon at the head of the table to James and back to Simon.

"Ellison's partner," Special Agent Lomb answered drolly, looking at James with a disdainful smirk. "They even live together."

The telphone on the conference table started to ring. Simon quickly answered it before James could respond to Lomb's inuendo by pressing the red button on the panel.

"Jim?" Blair's nervous voice filled the room. The sound of his rapid heartbeat filled James' ears. " Are you there man?"

"Sandburg get out of there now!" 

"But -"

"Go!" James commanded forcefully. "You don't know what you're up against _and _you're unarmed!"

"Alright, but send the calvary okay?"

"Ten four Chief, I'm on the way."

The elevator chimed before the doors slide open behind Blair. Keeping his eyes fixed on the front door Blair backed into the elevator slowly. He stopped when he bumped into a tall body. Turning swiftly he was face to pecs with a square jawed muscular man in a black suit, white shirt, thin black tie and reflective sunshades. 

"Oh shit."

In Simon's office they heard the soft exclaimation clearly then the dull thud as Blair dropped the telephone. They heard the brief heated struggle. They heard Blair protest loudly, then Blair's prostest muffled. Then they heard nothing. 

While James at the telephone for Blair to answer damnit - the elevator chimed and the doors slide shut again.

_+_+_+_

This snippet came to me while I was supposed to be writing my Microbiology paper. Comments, Compact Discs and Christmas cards are welcome!

964


	2. Default Chapter Title

****

Although I offered to buy the whole franchise for a buck fifty, Pet Fly, Paramount, the Sci-Fi networks and various other individuals refused to sell me the Sentinel. I made no money off this story, which is logical since it is not worth any money. I humbly ask not to be sued since I lack the funds to put a stick of gum on lay-away.

High Priestess Lunatic

Desperate Times

Part Two:

James knocked his chair over backwards with his legs as he stood up abruptly. He slapped his open hands on the glossy surface of the cherry finished pine conference table at the end of Simon's office; opposite from the Captain's desk. He bellowed enraged, at the black telephone broadcasting his Guide's distress in stereo from its twin tiny speakers, as though the sound of his voice alone could stop the crime in progress. 

Well, maybe it could.

That was of course, if Cortese could hear him.

However, Cortese was to busy kidnapping his best friend - per his instructions - to pick up the telephone.

As the elevator chimed before closing, James bolted from Simon's office at full speed, bursting through the Captain's door with force enough to rattle the glass and pull a few papers of Rhonda's desk as he passed. His long legs devoured the distance between Simon's office and the doors to the Major Crimes department in three strides.

He elbowed between Detectives Henry Brown and Rafael van Rijn coming through the doors, knocking Rafe on his behind. Henry stumbled back into Inspector Megan Conner and Captain Joel Taggert just stepping off the elevator, but James did not pause in his headlong rush to the stair to apologize to his co-workers.

If it were a real emergency - if Blair had _really _been kidnapped - he would be focused on finding, protecting, and avenging his Guide. Nothing else would matter. Not the sudden appearance of his biological mother's from thin air. Not Ed McMann with a million dollars, the keys to a Ford Expedition and a policy for automotive insurance with Triple AAA with a low deductible. Not even six beautiful buxom Hula dancing naked red headed women begging for sex.

Nothing would stop or distract him.

Though he might glance over at the naked women. His Guide would understand. 

Besides if he stopped now, and saw the sincere piteous empathy on the faces of his friends - the Shaman's friends, their chosen extended family and tribe - there was no way he could go through with THE PLAN ™. He would have a hell of a lot of explaining to do, everyone would be _really _pissed with him, he might go to jail and the Shaman would not be safe. 

He would be naked with a crossbow bolt in his side, bleeding to death on the jungle floor looking at James with sad accusing eyes. 

Died because James shot him. 

Shot him because he was aiming at HER.

Aiming at HER and missed.

THAT was not going to happen. 

James erupted from the stairwell hoping that his expression was convincingly distressed and furious. Judging from the way the other officers in the parking garage visibly cringed back as they saw him approaching, he supposed it was. He could hear Simon shouting breathlessly behind him, years of smoking Cuba's finest cigars kept him from running fast enough to keep up with James Ellison. He ignored his Captain and headed to his truck.

James fumbled for his keys, and almost broke the truck's driver side window in frustration. Simon was catching up, and he could not face him knowing the whole situation was an elaborate hoax dreamed up so the Sentinel would not have to share his latest Spirit Guide induced dream with the resident Medicine Man. It was just too absurd and logical even for James to think about - let alone believe.

James managed to get the key in the lock, the door open and himself in the driver's seat just as Simon was running up to the truck. He quickly jabbed the key in the ignition, and revved the truck into life as Simon skidded to a halt beside his door. 

"Damnit Ellison don't you go off half cocked!" Simon shouted at him through the glass of his rolled up window.

James looked over his shoulder, shifted the truck into gear, and pulled out of his parking space so fast his tires squealed. He wrenched the steering wheel violently; nearly swinging his truck into a collision with a patrol car whose breaks whined loudly at it came to an abrupt halt. 

With Simon standing with his hands on his hips fuming, and two uniform officers swearing at him - James drove his truck on to the ramp and out of the underground parking lot of the police department.

~+~

Cortese sighed as he shifted the limp body in his arms. Blair's head rolled against his shoulder before flopping back, his mouth open. The graduate student's right arm was folded cross his waist, but his left arm dangled down, swinging limply as Cortese stepped off the elevator. He caught his reflection in the plate glass door, and shook his head ruefully.

He looked like a government agent carrying off an innocent on the cover of a B-movie. This was ridiculous. Cortese sighed again as he pushed open the door with his shoulder and hip. He walked out of the building and looked amazed. Here he was, committing a felony in broad daylight and no one seemed to be paying attention. 

Cortese made a rude disgusted sound, and Winston wondered why he hated Americans. Self centered pigs.

Winston had been sitting in the front of their stolen ambulance fiddling with the radio dial. When Cortese came out of the building Winston crawled through the space between the front two seats and opened the back doors of the rig for him. 

Cortese handed Blair up to Winston's waiting arms, then pulled himself up, and climbed into the van, shutting the doors behind him. As he made his way to the driver's seat let Blair's back pack slide off his shoulder onto the floor with a dull thud, Winston settled Blair in the back.

Crouching so that she did not hit her head, Winston placed Blair's body on a gurney in the middle of the back of the van. She arranged the young man's limbs so that his arms were down at his sides then strapped Blair's body down with the nylon restraints. 

"Not a mark on him," Winston commented. She rolled up the left sleeve of Blair's denim shirt, cleaned a patch of skin with a betadine wipe, and inserted the needle of an IV containing saline, a little glucose and enough sedative to keep Blair deeply sedated. "Didn't he at least put up a fight?"

"Yeah, fought like a cornered wild cat - not that he knew what the hell he was doing," Cortese said as the started the truck and backed out into traffic. "He was just swinging, kicking, and screaming hoping to land a good solid blow or attract attention. It was pathetic, you'd think the Captain would have at least taught him the basics."

"Well he's going to be with us for a while, why don't you teach him." Winston put a pillow under Blair's head, draped several quilts over his body before coming to the front, and siting down next to Cortese in the passenger's seat. She was dressed in dark pants, a white polo shirt and a jacket she stole from a paramedic. 

"How's that gonna look Edna? We kidnap him and teach him self defense?"

"Do you plan to just sit around looking at him until Ellison wants him back?" Winston shot back.

"That's why I brought his backpack. He's a student, he can do his homework," Cortese replied sarcastically. 

_+_+_+_

Comments, Compact Discs, and Christmas cards are welcome!

1238


	3. Default Chapter Title

**Although I offered to buy the whole franchise for a buck fifty, Pet Fly, Paramount, the Sci-Fi networks and various other individuals refused to sell me the Sentinel. I made no money off this story, which is logical since it is not worth any money. I humbly ask not to be sued since I lack the funds to put a stick of gum on lay-away.**

**High Priestess Lunatic**

** **

** **

**Desperate Times**

** **

**Part Three:**

** **

She made an appointment to see Blair at 1:30 p.m. that morning. They were to meet at the Cascade Botanical Gardens downtown. Blair wanted to teach her how to filter scents and identify the fragrance of different plants. She arrived early and waited on a bench outside the building.

When Blair did not arrive at three o'clock she tried his cellular telephone number. There was no answer.She drove to Rainier University, thinking the graduate student was in his office talking to an undergraduate or his morning faculty meeting went into over time.Just the thought of another dominating his time made her feel hot with jealous anger.

To control her senses, to prevent her from having another accident, she turned on the CD player and the car speakers began to play the digital recording of Blair's heartbeat he had given her at their last meeting. It worked like a charm.

She smiled at the thought of how considerate and clever Blair was. 

Blair was determined to help her, not take advantage of her.She could smell that he was attracted to her, but he restrained himself, limiting their association to a professional teacher/student relationship.He told her up front all he wanted was to include her in the paper he was writing, a small price to pay for her sanity and freedom from painkillers. Blair thought she was a brilliant artist, and that her paintings were beautiful.

Her current partner in crime, Carlos Diego treated her like a trained dancing Bear - dangerous but useful for the moment in his current money making scheme.Despite their sexual relationship Alexis had, no doubt that he would try to kill her at his earliest convenience. Carlos thought her art was a waste of time and often threatened to burn her work.

There was no contest. Being around Blair made her want to settle down, open an art studio, watch her half dozen blonde curly haired children frolic on the white sands of a private beach in the Mediterranean.Carlos made the space between her shoulder blades itch in apprehension of a bullet or a knife every time she turned her back on him. 

If she could figure out a way for Carlos to take the fall for the VX gas, yet not incriminate herself in the process, she could get the millions Carlos had stashed away during their association and live happily ever after.From her own time in prison Alexis knew people on the inside who would not mind doing a little dirty work for her.After Carlos went up the river he would be gang raped and murdered in a prison shower over a pack of cigarettes.

She had no desire to turn Blair Sandburg to a life of crime. It would destroy in him the very thing that attracted her, or turn him into a monster even worst than Carlos. Besides, she reasoned, there was only so long you could live on the edge before falling off. Better to retire than be incarcerated or die.

Alexis arrived at Hargrove Hall smiling smugly. For the first time since before her parents died her future looked bright and sure. It would be easy to make Blair fall completely in love with her. He was half way there already. However separating him from THE OTHER would be difficult, only because it would take so much time and she was not known for her patience.

Alexis would have to work slowly. Demanding just a bit more, and a bit more of Blair's time and attention as their relationship progressed until they married and moved away from Cascade. Far, far, away from Cascade were the people spoke Spanish and it was so hot it did not rain it steamed. Blair would love living in the lands he had studied for so long.

Guadalajara, Mexico was a nice place to honeymoon. Le Fe, Cuba was better. Tela, Honduras was a nice place to live if you were a rich. Carlos bought a fifteen-bedroom Italian villa on the beach - thinking he would spend next winter there - it would be hers after Alexis made him the scapegoat. The cost of living was so low; she and Blair could live like royalty on a few thousand dollars a year.

Alexis was in high spirits when she passed by the Anthropology Department's office, on her way to Blair's basement office, and heard crying. Ordinarily she could have cared less, but the sobbing women blubbered something about Blair, which made Alexis pause - with her back against the tall beside the door her head turned toward the office, her hearing reaching inside.

"Could this be a prank? A couple kids unhappy about their grade trying to give Mr. Sandburg a good scare?"

"Blair is so well liked! I mean his students absolutely adore him! His classes have students sitting in the aisles for lack of chairs and waiting lists! I just don't know who would do something like this!" a female voice said tearfully. "Besides this school has a very strict policy against practical jokes of any kind. Pulling one could get a student expelled." 

"So there is _no one _you can think of who might have a grudge against Sandburg?"

"Well there is one," the female voice said thoughtfully. "A boy named Brad Ventriss. He cheated on his term paper, handed in one of Blair's own papers from his undergraduate days, some are kept on file though I don't know how _he _could have gotten it."

"What did Mr. Sandburg do?"

"Gave Ventriss a chance to do it over, and you know what that boy does? He cheats again. That time Blair turned it over to Chancellor Edwards. It's under investigation, but after Blair came forward three other professors have added their suspicions of academic misconduct to the case. Ventriss is going to be expelled."

"Why didn't the others instructors come forward sooner?"

"Ventriss is the son of Markus Ventriss, founder and CEO of Playtronics Software. The Katherine Hale dormitory is named after his grandmother because of his father's generous donations to the University. The new stadium is going to be named after his grandfather when it's finished."

Alexis heard the jaguar roar. She turned her head quickly and saw the furious spotted jungle cat pacing the length of the bench across from the office with her hackles raised her ears flattened to her small scull, her claws extended and the tip of her tail flicking back and forth like a short whip. Instinctively Alexis _knew _what her spirit guide wanted, knew what she had to do. 

She HAD to hunt, and kill the enemy. 

She HAD to TAKE back the Shaman, take him to a safe place. 

She HAD to MAKE the Shaman HERS, she would share him with no OTHER.

Her face set in a dark scowl Alexis stormed out of Hargrove Hall. The click of her high-heeled boots on the concrete stairs that lead from the building and the sidewalk sounded like an animal's claws.

~+~

It may be slow in coming (I have finals for the next two weeks, run to your center of worship and beseech your God on my behalf) but I will finish.

Eventually.

Comments, Compact Discs and Christmas cookies (especially the white chocolate Oreos) are welcome!

1215


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